“Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. ’ ‘But she must have known I’d longed to hear of you. The prison was two stories high, with a flat roof surmounted by a gilt vane fashioned like a key; and, possessing considerable internal accommodation, it had, in its day, lodged some thousands of disorderly personages. He put it carefully aside, resolved to defer the attempt till night. I shall never come back. I don't care how lonesome it is. .
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